Nolan scored.
And angels wept. Or more likely, their tears turned to snow. Small flakes started falling from the sky and clung to the living room window.
But from the way Nolan cheered, you’d have thought he’d won the World Cup. Which meant not only was he not going to his parents’ tonight—and never would—I couldn’t bring it up again. If there was an again. I had no idea if this would be the last time I’d ever seen him.
Somehow I had a feeling it was.
As if thinking the same, Nolan let his cheering die away and he reached for me. He pulled me close and his lips found mine. Unlike when we were in the shower, these kisses weren’t sweet and unassuming. They were knotted with both desire and an unspoken fear we would never see each other again. Not like this.
The kisses grew hungrier and more intense. I’m not sure how it happened, but one minute we were in the living room kissing, and the next we were in my room, our clothes on the floor.
The intensity of the kisses shifted. They were still passionate, but our caresses became tender as we worshiped each other’s body, worshiped each other’s soul.
I memorized his sounds, his smells, the feel of his skin against my mine. When he finally entered me, I memorized how he felt inside me, how he filled me, how he made me come, crying out his name. And as I came back down to earth next to him on the bed, I memorized the sound of his heartbeat, my head resting on his chest.
He enveloped me in his arms and drew soothing circles on my back. I fought against sleep for the longest time, neither of us speaking, both of us soaking in these last precious moments together.
Outside, the wind howled through the hibernating trees, warning of a coming storm. If I was lucky, it meant Nolan’s flight would be canceled, and he’d be stranded in Northbridge for a few more days.
By slow degrees, my exhaustion from everything that had happened today became too powerful for me to hold back, and I drifted off to sleep.
—
When I woke up, the early morning rays of sunlight poked through the gaps in the curtains. Last night’s storm had long since moved on. That was the first thing I noticed. The second was that Nolan’s arms were no longer wrapped around me and my head was no longer on his chest.
Even before I reached out to his side of the bed and touched the empty sheets, an ache filled every space in my body. My fingers searched for a sign that he had recently been here, but the warmth from his body had long since faded. I didn’t have to leave my room to know that he was on his flight back to L.A.
Blinking away the tears, I hugged his pillow and inhaled his scent still clinging to it. But this failed to dull the ache. If anything, it only intensified it. As did the knowledge that eventually the scent would disappear, like the warmth on his side. And then I’d be left with nothing to remember him.
Clearly a glutton for punishment, I relived the memory of last night, of the last time I would make love with him.
And I relived the memory of his lips against my forget-me-not tattoo. When I’d gotten it, I’d half hoped the old belief was true and that my lover would never forget me. But back then, Nolan hadn’t been my lover. Whether the belief was true or not hadn’t mattered. Now it mattered more than I cared to admit. I never wanted Nolan to forget what I meant to him, but that was nothing more than a foolish wish. The wish of someone who deep down wanted to believe in happily-ever-afters.
As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t stay in bed all day and dwell on those last moments. I had to go to work. I had to move on.
If I was lucky, no one at the sports center paid attention to the fan sites. But based on the reaction I’d seen when Nolan showed up there, I doubted I would get that lucky.
Still a little sore from yesterday’s attack, and maybe a little apprehensive of being stalked while running again, I decided to skip my run this morning. I grabbed my work clothes and hopped in the shower.
After I finished getting ready, I entered the tiny kitchen to make a quick breakfast. At the sight of the folded piece of paper on the table, my heart tripped over itself to read it.
Forget-Me-Not,
You looked so peaceful when I left this morning, I couldn’t bear waking you up to say goodbye. While I regret everything in the past twenty-four hours that has done nothing but hurt you, I don’t regret a single second I’ve spent with you.
I’ll never stop loving you.
Stay safe.
Nolan
My breath sucked at his second-to-last line, my vision growing blurry. I’d never told him I loved him, and he’d never said it to me either. Yes, he’d told me I was his heart and soul, but neither of us had actually laid out what that meant.
Not that it mattered anymore. It was time for me to move on. For us both to move on.
But even after acknowledging that, I couldn’t find it in me to throw away the letter. Instead, I refolded it and hid it in my underwear drawer. If I ever had the courage to open my heart to another guy, I’d make sure he never saw the letter. But for now, it and the memories from the past few weeks Nolan and I had spent together were all I had left of him.
And I already knew it wouldn’t be enough.
Chapter 37
Hailey
I hurried along the recently cleared path to the sports center. The brisk wind nipped my exposed skin and found its way through my winter coat and jeans.
“Hey, you’re early,” Chris called out behind me. I turned to him, giving him a beat to catch up with me.
“I figured now that I’m healed, I should register for the self-defense class for this weekend, if there’s still room. Though I think by now I’ve had my lifetime quota for attacks.”
He winced at the truth of it, even though he didn’t know about the latest one. The police hadn’t yet identified the body and hadn’t yet disclosed to the media the connection between the attack in Westgate and the man’s death. They wanted to rule out first if he had been working with an accomplice the night he attacked me in Westgate—a detail I’d neglected to tell Nolan, since he already had enough to worry about with recording the band’s upcoming album. As it was, I still had no idea why I had been in Westgate and why the guy had tried to kill me.
“I don’t think that makes a difference, Hailey,” Chris told me.
I shrugged. “A girl can always hope.”
“Well, ya know, when in doubt, go for the nuts. That will buy you time.” He flashed me a pained look to prove his point and opened the door for me.
Blondes #1 and #2 must have sensed his presence. We’d barely stepped into the building before they converged on us.
Expecting them to do their usual flirting with Chris, I walked toward the registration desk to check on the class.
I didn’t get that far. Blonde #1 stepped in front of me. “You’re not dating Tyler Erickson anymore, are you?”
“I wasn’t dating him.” That much was true. “We’re just friends.” Who had sex together, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Is he coming back here?” Blonde #2 asked.
A loud bang startled me.
The sound of metal hitting metal slammed through my brain. I cracked open my eyelids but was met by darkness. From my cramped position in the enclosed space, I couldn’t tell where I was. My head hurt. That was all I knew.
The world swayed around me.
Someone placed an arm around my lower back, steadying me. “I’ve got you,” a man said.
I blinked him into focus. Blondes #1 and #2 were eyeing me like I was a dye job gone wrong.
“What was that noise?” I asked the man, whom I’d seen a few times in the sports center, working out or talking to his stepdaughter, who had a part-time job there.
“Someone accidentally knocked a chair over,” Lindsey’s stepfather said.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Blonde #1 pointed out.
I shook my head. “It’s nothing. I just remembered something.”
“You remembered something that scared you? Wha
t the hell was it?” Chris placed a plastic chair from the nearby waiting area next to me. “Sit.”
“I’m fine. Really.”
Blondes #1 and #2 looked more interested in pumping additional info out of me about Nolan than finding out why I’d been suddenly dizzy. Given I didn’t want to discuss him with them or anyone, I added, “I keep remembering things about when I was attacked.”
Chris’s eyes widened. “Do you know who it was?”
“No. Not yet. I just keep remembering bits and pieces of that night.”
“Other than that, how are you doing?” Lindsey’s stepfather asked, his gaze sweeping over my body. But not in a sleazy, checking-me-out kind of way. Not like what Blonde #2 was doing to him. “Sorry, hazard of the job,” he explained. “I’m a firefighter.”
I could’ve sworn Blonde #2 sighed as if she was about to swoon. Either she didn’t notice his wedding ring or she didn’t care that he was married.
While she might have been sizing him up as her next target, the feeling wasn’t mutual. Seeing that I was okay, he excused himself and headed for the main entrance without giving her a second glance.
“So, are you and Tyler still together?” Blonde #1 asked, returning to the original inquisition.
I let out a long exasperated breath. “Nothing’s going on between Tyler and me.” I didn’t wait for her to ask me another question. I told Chris I would talk to him later and walked off to ask about the class.
The guy working the registration desk checked his computer. “That class is full. But there’s space in the one after that.”
“When is it?”
“January fifteenth.”
“That’s fine.” Even thought I hadn’t told Kayla my plans, I registered her in the class too. She could thank me later.
As if sensing I was thinking about her, she sent me a text: Dylan’s got a work Christmas party Thursday night. You want me to bring over the popcorn? That was Kayla’s way of asking me if I wanted her to come over to watch a movie that night.
Sounds great.
Chapter 38
Nolan
The final notes of the song we’d been working on faded away, and I nodded. The energy electrifying Mason’s studio loft was at an all-time high since my return two days ago. For the past six hours, the band had been creating the arrangement to the song. No one had mentioned the lies I’d been feeding them all these years.
I figured Jared had something to do with that.
From the moment we’d walked through the front door, we were all business. We had just over a week to pull everything together before hitting the studio. And for the first time I realized how much I’d fucked things up for these guys. I’d been so focused on Hailey and how much I loved her, I’d forgotten how much the music meant to them. Being a recording artist wasn’t just my dream. It was theirs too, and I’d put it in jeopardy.
No one mentioned that either.
We were working on the song Hailey loved. It was a ballad, and the moment I’d begun singing it, the guys’ eyes had lit with a level of excitement I hadn’t seen in a while.
“I think that’s it,” Jared said at last, grinning. The guys nodded in agreement. But as much as we wanted to celebrate, we still needed to create the music for five more songs and the lyrics and music to two others. While I’d been away, Jared and I had written eleven songs in total. Some we’d collaborated on via the phone and Skype. Others we’d written on our own. He’d presented them to the band, and they had already arranged the music and tweaked the lyrics to six songs by the time I’d left Northbridge.
Mason ordered pizza and we took a quick break to check our phones. Disappointment kicked me in the gut that Hailey hadn’t texted or called me. Since returning to L.A., I’d received one text from her, thanking me for letting her know I’d arrived safely. All my other attempts to contact her went ignored.
Alyssa was a different matter. Now that I had returned and the media were talking about our relationship (from what I’d heard), she sent me regular texts. I’d already warned her the band and I were in hiding while we worked on the album. So other than her movie premiere tomorrow night, which the label insisted I attend with her, I wouldn’t be in contact with the outside world until the album was completed.
What she didn’t know was that Hailey was the exception. If Hailey went back to acknowledging my existence, I’d be on the phone faster than you could say foosball champion.
While my phone had been turned off, Brandon had texted me: Call me ASAP. Important.
I called him. My heart pounded something fierce, each rapid beat spreading fear through my body like poison.
He answered on the second ring. “Hailey’s fine,” he said before I could say anything, “but I figured you’d want to know that someone she works with was found murdered yesterday.”
“Who?”
“Chris Witterholm.”
I could barely breathe. I remembered chatting with him a few times. He was a good guy. Why the hell would someone want to kill him?
“The police haven’t released any details,” Brandon continued, “other than he was in Westgate when he was shot.”
My body turned to ice at his words. “Did it have anything to do with Hailey?”
“I have no idea. All I know is what I’ve told you.”
“Let me know if you hear anything else.”
“Will do.”
We ended the call, and I began typing Hailey a text: Heard about Chris. I’m sorry. Call me. I love you. Then I deleted the final three words before hitting send. Given the situation with Alyssa, those three words would only screw things up more than they already were. I didn’t want a long-distance relationship. I wanted Hailey in L.A. with me.
I contacted the detective who’d been assigned to Hailey’s case. “All I can tell you,” he said, “is that we’re looking into the possibility they’re linked.” His tone was all business, and nothing I said would convince him to reveal anything more, especially to someone who was constantly in the media spotlight.
After getting nowhere with that, I returned to the guys, who were eating the pizza as if it were their final meal, especially Mason. I grabbed a couple of slices before he could devour them all. We quickly finished up, then went back to work.
But as much as I tried to concentrate on the music and lyrics, memories of my last time with Hailey crept into my head. It didn’t help she’d been the inspiration for my songs. A bit of Hailey was in all of them. The loneliness that had kept itself at bay while I was with her returned with a vengeance.
An hour later, after I’d screwed up on my part for the tenth time, Mason exploded, “Fuck, Tyler—or Nolan, or whatever your freakin’ name is. Are you gonna get with the fucking program or not?”
Jared tensed, ready to throw himself between me and Mason if necessary. Kirk and Aaron glanced between us. Unlike Jared, I couldn’t see either of them jumping in front of the bulky drummer, any more than they would have jumped in front of a speeding semi.
“Hey, look, I’m sorry.” Though I meant what I said, exhaustion, frustration, and anger pushed through to my words. “I never claimed I was perfect. I’m pretty screwed up, actually. Have been for years thanks to my craptastic dad.”
Mason’s features softened at the reminder of what I’d been through. He nodded, indicating we should get back to work.
“No,” Jared said, “we need to talk about this.”
We all threw him a look that clearly said, What the fuck are you talking about, you pussy? Guys didn’t talk about their emotions. We drank beer and got laid. Which would be great if the woman I wanted to have sex with lived in the same city as me. After being with Hailey, no one else would do.
“Yeah, I get it,” Jared said. “We’re cavemen assholes who are only capable of grunting at each other.”
Kirk chuckled. “But at least they’re musical grunts.” He threw me a glance that was part amusement, part frustration. “Most of the time.”
“Shit, you’re not
gonna make us hug, are you?” Mason’s arms were folded, emphasizing his huge, tattooed biceps. “Otherwise I’m gonna need some serious therapy.”
Aaron smirked. “Given that you won’t even hug a woman, I’d say you need serious therapy either way.”
That earned Aaron a harsh glare. Aaron shrugged it off.
“Can we just play the song again?” I said. “I promise I’ll do better.”
“You better,” Mason huffed.
Kirk chuckled. “Someone needs to get laid.”
“Damn straight I do. But until you ladies get your act together, I’m going all monk,” Mason said with a frown. I had a feeling the monk part wasn’t by choice. Jared probably had something to do with it, demanding there was no getting laid until the album was finished.
“All right. Before Mas starts reciting religious scriptures,” I said, “let’s get back to work.” Anything to avoid talking about all the shit going on with me, and about my fears for Hailey after what had happened to her colleague.
Jared and Kirk grabbed their instruments. Mason returned to his drums, and Aaron switched his keyboards back on. This time when I sang the song, I pretended I was singing it to Hailey. By the time we were finished with it, all four were nodding their approval.
We continued well into the night. To save time, we’d planned to crash at Mason’s until the songs were all written. Like the past few nights, we slept only two or three hours before starting up again. Coffee became our food of choice.
Before crashing on Mason’s couch, I checked my phone. Hailey had finally replied to one of my texts: I’m fine, thanks. Have fun tomorrow night.
At first my sleep-deprived brain had no idea what she was talking about with the last part, but then I remembered: Alyssa’s movie premiere. Hailey must have seen it on the entertainment news. To her, I was moving on with my life. That’s why she hadn’t responded to my messages. It was her way of saying she understood.
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